


Almost Naked and Only Slightly Afraid

by Spinning_Mouse



Series: The Bets the Devil Lost [2]
Category: Daredevil (Comics)
Genre: Crack Fic, It's very silly, half nudity, i guess, nothing actually nsfw though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-18
Updated: 2018-05-18
Packaged: 2019-05-08 14:32:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14696166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spinning_Mouse/pseuds/Spinning_Mouse
Summary: Matt loses a bet to Foggy. Again.





	Almost Naked and Only Slightly Afraid

Had it always been so _cold_ up here? Sure, usually there was a little more between Matt and the sharp wind at the top of the Chrysler building, but today he didn’t have that luxury. Usually he came up here, above the noise of the city in the one place he truly felt free, after he suited up. It was a good spot to start the night before patrolling, like a breath taken before a dive into deep waters. 

He’d never gotten a chance to suit up today. Or, more accurately, he’d been forbidden from suiting up properly for the next half hour. Longer really, since the timer didn’t start until he was on the streets. Matt knew he should have learned his lesson before it got this far. He knew there was nobody to blame for this but himself. Betting against Foggy had ended badly last time too.

Still, this was a new low for Foggy. Making Matt run around in his underwear, with nothing else on besides his mask (and boots and gloves, for safety purposes)? Sure Matt had agreed to the terms, and sure, technically nobody would know it was Murdock running around New York half naked, but still. He’d never really expected to lose _again_.

Thirty minutes. That’s all he had to get through. Thirty minutes swinging and jumping through the streets of New York in broad daylight.

Matt allowed himself a small sigh before he jumped.

The sting of the chilly air cutting across his exposed skin didn’t do much to take away from the pure joy of falling through the air. It was a well practiced move, his hands moving ahead of his thoughts. With a flash his billy clubs were out, wires between them thrown out to catch his fall, sending him swinging down towards the street then back up in a perfect arc. 

It took a moment for his presence to register down below him. The city was always nearly overwhelming, but he knew how to listen, to find the few important things that cut through the white noise. 

“Is that-”

“No!”

“Is he…?”

“Did he lose the rest?”

“ _Wow_.”

No doubt there were some entertaining conversations left behind him. He couldn’t keep up with any as fast as he was moving, but even the snippets he heard were more than entertaining enough. A blush even crept up his face at some of them, blooming from deep in his chest. Admittedly, there was also a whole lot of pride there.

It would make the whole event pretty fun if he didn’t also constantly hear the click of cameras flashing from every angle. Moving fast would help blur a lot of phone cameras, but even some of those were almost professional quality. Dozens of pictures were no doubt already online. Hopefully none of the larger news stations picked it up. Maybe something bigger would happen, like Captain America getting a twitter account.

After a few minutes, he was forced to twist to the side, swinging himself into an alley where he grabbed a fire escape and scrambled to the roof. Matt had spent years learning to fight, toning his body, and years more building experience as a vigilante who gave up sleep in favor of fighting crime. He was more than used to extended periods of activity, usually including one or two or several fights along the way. Still, he didn’t often put so much strain on a specific set of muscles for so many minutes straight, and he was starting to feel it in his arms. A minute of rest and he’d be perfectly fine and ready to go back out and...well, physically, he’d be perfectly ready.

At least here it felt nice. There was far less wind than on top of the chrysler, so it felt less like getting cut a dozen times over with every breeze. He dropped into a crouch, back resting against the rough stone of a half wall lining the edge of the roof, further cutting himself off from any sort of wind. It was nice, even if he had to sit perfectly still to keep any slight movements causing the stone to rub against his back like sandpaper.

It took all of ten seconds for his short rest to be interrupted. It started with a noise, something he recognized that still didn’t belong to the normal background of New York. He could have guessed who it was from the light sound of feet softly pushing against brick walls for a moment before lifting off again. He knew the sound a person made as they cut through the air, swinging and jumping between the skyscrapers with ease. The second most obvious clue was the sticky noise of web hitting walls, the high vibrations of a wire being pulled taunt echoing.

The most obvious clue was the familiar humming.

Matt could run. There was time, he could move right now and hide. His friend never had to see a thing.

Except he would anyway, wouldn’t he? There’s no way everyone he knew wouldn’t see it online within a day, if that, and no way most of them wouldn’t bring it up at every opportunity possible. Would it be more painful to deal with it in person, or would this get it out of their system? There may be something to that theory, if he were very lucky. Besides, part of the bet was specifically about _not_ hiding.

Matt stood up. Spiderman swung past him at first, then nearly slammed himself into a wall staring. A moment later the man dropped down on the same roof, standing in front of Matt, a comfortable ten feet away. 

Matt waited, arms crossed over his chest in a self conscious gesture, determined not to be the first to speak. He felt the way spiderman raised a hand as if preparing to speak, dropped it back down, took a deep breath, then let it out without a word. 

“Ok. I kind of want to make a joke about your new look, but I’m also really concerned you’ve finally snapped or something. Or maybe it’s not really you. Is it really you?”

Spiderman leaned forward slightly, a completely pointless move considering he hadn’t actually stepped closer at all. Matt snorted, an automatic response to that kind of tone, then let his shoulders drop in defeat.

“Yes, it’s me. No, it’s not a new look.”

“Oh my god it’s really you. And hey, I didn’t say it was a _bad_ look, just, uh, different. Very different. And bold. Definitely not like you lost a bet.”

Matt scowled. 

“Oh my god. You lost _again_.”

“I have to go.”

He didn’t wait for a response before jumping over the edge, but unfortunately, that didn’t stop him from hearing Spiderman’s laughter all down the next street. Good to know everyone remembered the last time so clearly even now.

Back into the fray, he threw himself into the public eye. It was much the same as before, though for some reason this stretch of town produced a lot more colorful language when they saw him. 

Of course something else interrupted him, something at the very edges of his senses. Annoyed, he aimed for it as he tried to make sense of it. Was that...a scream?

All annoyance disappeared, instantly replaced with steadfast determination. Casual movements that had sent him zigzagging around turned calculated. He zeroed in on the chaos, piecing it together as he flew towards it. Something large moving through the streets with huge steps, but not heavy enough to match the stride. The concrete didn’t crack under the weight, the sound was too quiet, and even the screams were dull, sounds of shock more than real fear. 

Oh no. Not him again.

But who else would it be? Who else would show up now, at this exact moment, right in the middle of Matt’s moment of shame? _Of course_ it would be stilt man. 

He was as ridiculous as always, towering over buildings in a giant metal suit that was, as his name suggested, mostly made out of very tall legs. Matt went straight for him without hesitating, landing on the roof of a low building before throwing a billy club so it arched over one of the robot’s extended arms and wrapped around. He yanked it back as hard as he could, pulling the cord connected his clubs tight and throwing stilt man off balance. The robot veered around, stilt man presumably sneering from inside the safety of his metal bubble. Matt smirked back, a natural response to his most annoying enemy. It quickly dropped away when stilt man paused at the sight in front of him.

Matt, determined not to turn red from embarrassment, dove off his third building for the day. Nothing held him up besides stilt man, who had been too distracted to keep his stupid robot steady. The arm yanked down too fast, dragging stilt man and his personal container down with it. The entire contraption crashed into the ground. Concrete broke, the metal of an unfortunately parked car twisted and flattened with a horrible screech, and rubble went flying everywhere. 

Civilians were long gone, but Matt wasn’t so lucky. With his one support going down nearly as fast as him, he landed hard, the impact reverberating up through his bones. His right shin throbbed, probably cracked if the pain was any indication. It was hard to tell on top of his sliced up skin, ripped and rubbed raw from sliding across rough concrete. Small rocks scratched up his back from stilt man’s crash before Matt could even think about getting up.

He grit his teeth against it all, cursing internally. Hell of a lot to go through for _stilt man_. 

The robot started to move again. Gears turned and machinery whirred as it tried to get up. Matt bolted towards it, flipping through the still horizontal legs as quickly as possible, wrapping what little free wire he had left around and between them both. He dove away, abandoning his weapon to watch the robot try to orient itself. It barely got halfway up before the wire connecting his billy clubs pulled taunt again. Instead of standing the robot managed to just roll, still somehow breaking apart more of the road as it did. 

With a deep breath against the pain lancing across his skin, Matt moved forward again, only pausing to pick up a fist-sized rock on the way. Even just climbing on top of stilt man’s robot hurt. Not a good sign, but one he could ignore for a while. Probably. 

Something danced at the edge of Matt’s radar sense. He tilted his head, frowning, before recognizing the form of his friend. Did Spiderman follow him, or did he just happen upon the same scene? Even this far away Matt could sense Spiderman giving a small wave, then a thumbs up. Reluctantly, Matt, waved back, then focused back on his main task. One thing at a time.

Stilt man struggled against his own restraints, barely even bruised. Suddenly very determined to change that, Matt rammed down the rock, smashing the glass between the two men. For a moment his enemy’s eye lit up in fear, but Matt only scoffed, tossing the rock to the side. He waited until the fear disappeared, replaced by something cockier, before he threw a well aimed punch to the head. Stilt man was out instantly. 

An engine rumbled from the end of the street as Matt, stood back up, stretching his loudly complaining muscles. Even Foggy wouldn’t make him stay out any longer after this. And was that...yeah, definitely a helicopter in the distance too. He couldn’t tell if it was from a news station, but he had no desire to find out.

“Daredevil…?”

Matt froze. Slowly, like a statue coming to life, he turned. His pose was awkward, one foot elevated from the way he stood on top of his defeated foe, almost like Washington if he’d been painted fighting robots instead of taking a boat across the Delaware. Elevated several yards above street level, Matt was impossible to miss. He was also still half naked and covered with his own blood. All of this, he was all of this in front of the most famous hero in the country, if not the entire world. 

Steve Rogers dismounted his motorcycle, one hand leaving the handle while the other dropped from where it had been reaching for his shield. 

Right on cue, the Helicopter appeared, tilting into a tight circle over the destruction. Now it was close enough for him to hear the news anchor talking. Matt dropped his head into his hands, resigned.

No matter what, Matt Murdock would never, ever, _ever_ bet against Foggy Nelson again for as long as he lived. That was a _promise_.

**Author's Note:**

> Don't take this too seriously, it's basically my way of procrastinating


End file.
